A Sorta Fairytale
by the Harechan
Summary: Update: Knight... she sometimes wished she had one.
1. Storytime

I get these odd little inspirations for stories at the strangest times, in the strangest places. While cleaning out and reorganizing the kitchen cabinets the other day, all the while listening to my entire music library on shuffle, the idea for the following weaseled its way into my head and wouldn't let go. I'm thinking this may turn into a series of Rinoa Heartilly-centric vignettes (drabbles, scenes, "one-shots"? Whatever those crazy kids are calling them these days. . .) that are loosely, and sometimes directly, tied to one another. I'm aiming for 100 to 300 words per scene, but we'll see how that goes. I'll update them chronologically as well.

**Storytime**

* * *

When she could only be considered a small child, she would listen as her (wonderful, melodious, soft, gentle) Mama told her tales of princesses, heroes, and Happily Ever After. She would lay content, tucked away snugly under her blankets, in the soft glow of a bedside lamp and Mama's presence. One small hand clasping the bedding and one arm wrapped around her plush cat, she lay wide-eyed to the tales woven into the placid dark of her bedroom. Mama's hands moved gracefully through the air as if to magic the stories into life for her. 

Some nights she would remain silent after the stories were done and the princess had been rescued. Mama would smooth her hair back and kiss her forehead tenderly, turning the lamp off and leaving the room with the door cracked open. Some nights she would ask the quiet question if Mama had a knight (as Mama could only be a princess). Mama always smiled gently (sadly) and would reply with an equally quiet voice, "Of course I do, dearest."

She always wanted to ask if Father was the knight.

* * *

Disclaimer: _Final Fantasy VIII_ and all character names, distinctive likenesses, and themes contained herein are the exclusive property of Sony Computer Entertainment Inc., Square Enix Arts L.L.C., and Square Co., Ltd. I am not receiving monetary gain from this nor do I expect to.


	2. Funeral

**Funeral  
**

* * *

When she could still only be considered a small child, her world came to an abrupt (horrible, terrible, frightening, upsetting) end. Mama left one morning and never came home. Men came to the house and spoke with Father. She sat unnoticed at the top of the stairs, clutching her plush cat tightly in both of her arms, listening to their words - "car", "crash", "dead". The men said that they were sorry, but Mama didn't come home. 

The last time she saw Mama, Father dressed her in a dress that was not pink or blue (like Mama always did), but black. It scratched her arms and pinched her neck. Mama was sleeping in a box and a man said some words that she didn't understand. Father held her hand securely as the box closed and Mama was lowered into the earth. She asked about Mama, but Father only frowned stiffly (resolved) and atoned in a soft voice, "Mother will not be coming home."

She refused to believe in "Happily Ever After" after that.

* * *

Disclaimer: _Final Fantasy VIII_ and all character names, distinctive likenesses, and themes contained herein are the exclusive property of Sony Computer Entertainment Inc., Square Enix Arts L.L.C., and Square Co., Ltd. I am not receiving monetary gain from this nor do I expect to.


	3. Tutor

**Tutor  
**

* * *

When she could be considered a young girl, she sat in Father's study as her (loathsome, stuffy, uncreative, overbearing) tutor lectured on various subject for her education. Sunlight filtering in through the windows revealed the brigade of dust motes that paraded in the stagnate air. She often gazed past the golden beams to the manicured lawn and gardens outside, ignoring the grating voice of the woman before her. She often thought herself a prisoner in Father's study; chained to the small desk she sat at, slave to the books before her.

During this time of droning lecture, she entertained thoughts of daring escapes into the gardens, past the non-existent prison guards, brandishing her weapon to fight for her freedom, to save herself from oppressive rule and captivity -

"Miss! Your attention now!" The shrill voice broke into her runaway daydreams as the wooden pointer slapped down onto her desk. She glared in defiance as the woman turned back to the map and continued with the geographic (and therefore boring) lesson, but dropped her eyes (forfeiting) to the book and not the window.

She wondered if instead of an Evil Stepmother, she was cursed with an Evil Tutor.

* * *

Disclaimer: _Final Fantasy VIII_ and all character names, distinctive likenesses, and themes contained herein are the exclusive property of Sony Computer Entertainment Inc., Square Enix Arts L.L.C., and Square Co., Ltd. I am not receiving monetary gain from this nor do I expect to.


	4. Struggle

**Struggle**

* * *

When she could be considered a young girl, she attended a (boring, dull, conventional, prim-and-proper) social gathering. Father stood conversing with other men in uniform while she sat nearby. Growing bored, she slipped away, weaving through the garden around islands of elegant skirts and uniform slacks. She approached a small group of children, but one girl told her to stay away. When she asked her to explain (in a very small voice), a boy stated that she didn't go to school with the rest of them. Laughter rippled through the group, others adding to the teasing. Finally, a girl sing-songed that Mama was dead.

The sadness welling up inside her stopped. Anger washing over her, she leaped, shrieking, at the girl. They both fell to the grass as she yelled, "That that back!" repeatedly, ripping at the lace and ribbons on the girl's dress and in her hair. She felt herself being lifted as she kicked, still screaming at the now sobbing girl beneath her. "Enough!" she heard Father roar above her. She stilled and Father set her down a distance from the huddled children where he admonished her behavior. She glared up at him (stubborn). He knelt, hands on her small shoulders pleading in a soft voice, "Please, princess. Don't start anymore fights."

She knew princesses never started fights, but she didn't want to be a princess.

* * *

Disclaimer: _Final Fantasy VIII_ and all character names, distinctive likenesses, and themes contained herein are the exclusive property of Sony Computer Entertainment Inc., Square Enix Arts L.L.C., and Square Co., Ltd. I am not receiving monetary gain from this nor do I expect to.

**AN**: Wow… that ended up longer than expected, but still within my 100-300 limit! Woo! I plan on four more parts (for a total of eight) and I have most of the next part written. From there it's just a matter of editing it. As for the last three parts, I have an outline for them, so I just need to flesh them out. Hopefully my muse will keep the inspiration coming on this…

**To all who have commented thus far, you have my sincerest and most heart-felt thanks! You guys are made of awesome!**


	5. Companion

Companion

* * *

When she could be considered a girl, she received a (surprising, unexpected, delightful, pleasing) gift - a young dog with floppy ears, licking tongue, wagging tail, and soft blotchy colored fur. As he grew, she found books to train her new friend, spending as much time as needed to have him respond to her whistles, that one young man working for Father taught her, until Angelo obediently remained at her side. She saw less and less of Father during these years, growing resentful at his absence, beginning to refer to him in her thoughts as the soldiers that he spoke with addressed him, "Caraway."

Lonely except for Angelo's company, she often wandered the streets with her canine. For the most part, they didn't pass many others in their wanderings and exchanged only polite pleasantries when they did. If Caraway happened to be home when they embarked on these excursions, a soldier under his employ followed after her (but Caraway never did). On the rarest of occasions, the pair crossed paths with the girls that shunned, and often teased, her in years before. At these times, Angelo would growl lowly (protectively) at the girls, who promptly crossed the street to pass them. She would pat him on the head and, following a soft, "Good boy," the pair would continue on their way.

She decided that every hero required a loyal companion.

* * *

Disclaimer: _Final Fantasy VIII_ and all character names, distinctive likenesses, and themes contained herein are the exclusive property of Sony Computer Entertainment Inc., Square Enix Arts L.L.C., and Square Co., Ltd. I am not receiving monetary gain from this nor do I expect to.


	6. Princess

Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VIII and all character names, distinctive likenesses, and themes contained herein are the exclusive property of Sony Computer Entertainment Inc., Square Enix Arts L.L.C., and Square Co., Ltd. I am not receiving monetary gain from this nor do I expect to.

**A Sorta Fairytale (Princess)**

* * *

When she could not be considered a young girl, or a young woman, she made a (rebellious, defiant, determined, life-altering) decision; one night she boarded the first train out of the city and never looked back. She stood on the platform, her one bag at her feet and Angelo leaning against her legs, pondering the irony of her ending up in her mother's hometown. Slinging the bag over her shoulder and tightening her grip on the leash, she turned to the town proper...

...To find a strange yellow train engine at a platform further down the station and a young man chased by soldiers running towards it. She knew it was foolish (he could be a criminal), but she reached down, unclipped Angelo's leash, picked up a handful of rocks and ran towards the men. As she approached, she threw the rocks at one soldier, signaling Angelo to tackle the other. As he passed, the pursued man grabbed her wrist drawing her behind him. She whistled to her canine and all three ended up in the engine, short of breath, facing each other as it began to move.

"Thank you for your help, sir," he bobbed his head, grinning. A dark-haired man came in, introducing them, and explained why they were fleeing the soldiers. She explained her predicament, finding her mother's name tumbling off her lips. Both laughed (surprised) at her insistence on joining their cause, but agreed, giving her a room on the train. She planned their strategy, a niche she filled perfectly, and she loved when they treated her as their equal.

She hated when they called her, "Princess."

* * *

Wow. I think this is the longest one yet. At this rate, I'm going to break my 300 word limit... Oh, well. And sorry about the lack of updates in this past year; I really don't know what was keeping me from my writing. I'm planning on two more installments for this, Knight and one I haven't named yet (can't come up with anything...). Hopefully it won't take so long to write and update those. Many deep heartfelt thanks to all of you who have reviewed, read, and put up with the long wait!


	7. Knight

**Disclaimer**: _Final Fantasy VIII_ and all character names, distinctive likenesses, and themes contained herein are the exclusive property of Sony Computer Entertainment Inc., Square Enix Arts L.L.C., and Square Co., Ltd.

**A Sorta Fairytale:** _Knight_

When she could be considered a young woman, she spent a (untroubled, uncomplicated, blithe, cheery) summer with a boy. He came to Timber alone one bright summer morning, walking past her as she watched the trains at the station. He paused in his swagger across the platform to ask her where the hotel was, long coat swirling to a standstill. She smiled shyly and offered to walk him there. He grinned and let her lead the way through the twisty roads.

He would meet her unexpectedly, his long coat missing. Together, they escaped the hot sun in what shade they found, ice cream often melting onto fingers. She found him an easy confidant, speaking of martial law and liberation, heartache and hope. He whispered tales of Garden, of training and lectures, rivalry and hotdogs. He had her in turns laughing from tales of hilarity or apprehensive at the passion in his words. He made her feel safe when soldiers passed. She made him more relaxed as the summer days wore on. Occasionally, she had to drag him away from fights (a reminder that SeeDs were dangerous) or he would drape an arm around her, ducking his head to steal a kiss.

"Next time I see you, I'll tell you about my dream. And you'll help you with that problem!" He grinned cockily (insecure) at her, before climbing further into the car, coat tails waving briefly. He appeared next to a window, lazily leaning against the frame as the train pulled away and she watched it rumble down the tracks for long minutes afterward.

She wished, for a brief moment, that she could find a knight.

* * *

Um. Hi. So it's been... two and a half years since I've updated this. I really can't say why it's taken me so long since I don't know. Maybe my Rinoa!muse ran off to help liberate Timber. I know that I never forgot about this fic, it just didn't seem to want to be written until today. At any rate, I have to apologize to everyone that has put this on your alerts and have been waiting patiently for me to post more. The next chapter I post will be the final one as planned and hopefully will come more easily than this one did. I also may be re-uploading previous chapters so that they all have the same format.

Reviews are loved and appreciated...


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